“We’re two shitty parents.I don’t know how he turned out so well.”
“Pure luck,” I remark, sipping my coffee.
“His birthday is sorted.He’s going away for the weekend with his friends.”
“God help us.”
“He promised to be careful and not do anything we wouldn’t do.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“Not at all.”
“Any other celebration?Maybe with us…?”
“A dinner when he’s back.No cake, no candles.”
“Heaven forbid!”
“You should thank me.It’s more than I expected.”
“True.More and more fucking luck.”
“I think he’s doing it for them, you know?”
“Mmm?”
“James and Karen.”
Ah, Evan.So bitchy, but still big-hearted.
“I doubt he’d have done it just for us.”
“Definitely not.”
“He’s becoming a man.”
“He already is,” I say, remembering the concern in his voice during our talks, the way he looked at me anxiously, how his hands fidgeted whenever he mentioned Jamie, how afraid he was that Jamie might hurt me.
“What should I do then?”
“Nothing.Don’t worry, everything is under control.His gift, too.”
“The car.”
She shrugs.
“I just hope he doesn’t get in an accident.Or worse.”
“You could have come and picked it out with us instead of just writing a cheque.”
“Do I still have any say when it comes to my son?”
“Martin…”
“Forget it.I don’t feel like going over the same thing again and again.”
“We can talk about something else,” she says as she leaves the counter and comes to sit next to me on a stool.She takes my cup and has a few sips.“How’s the Captain?”
